


Venom Dripping From His Mouth

by Jackdaw816



Series: Siren [2]
Category: Torchwood
Genre: Episode: s02e01 Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, Gen, Merpeople, Mind Control, Sirens
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-12
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:07:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26964919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackdaw816/pseuds/Jackdaw816
Summary: In which John is more than he seems
Series: Siren [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1969828
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19
Collections: Torchwood Fan Fests: Halloween Fest 2020





	Venom Dripping From His Mouth

**Author's Note:**

> I have absolutely no idea where this idea came from, but it actually got a lot less cracky than I thought it would, so, hell yeah
> 
> Title paraphrased from [Siren by Kailee Morgue](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WKWG4zCALoE) which is a brilliant John song especially here. Thanks to Elle for both betaing and introducing me to this song!
> 
> Prompt: Creatures, witches, and cryptids (Am I just going to write a bunch of fic from this prompt, mayhaps)

When Gwen assigned herself to the docks, she thought they’d be sifting through shipping containers. Boring, but safe. Well, safe as she could be with John Hart at her side. But looking into the dark waters, she shivered. She would have preferred boring.

“Are you sure the signal’s out there?” John asked, peering over her shoulder at the PDA. She resisted the urge to step away and nodded stiffly.

“Certain. Your canister’s in the bay,” Gwen said, a note of apology in her tone. John huffed and took the PDA from her hands. Gwen watched him carefully. He seemed irritated, but not mad. After checking the results for himself, John sighed and handed the PDA back.

“Alright. I can get it,” John said. Gwen looked up and was met with a faceful of red jacket. She sputtered as she pulled it off, wrinkling her nose at the odd scent.

“You’re not going in?” Gwen asked incredulously as John undid his belt and dropped it to the ground. He knelt to remove his boots, fingers deftly undoing buckles and laces.

“It’s the quickest way.” He pulled off his shirt, and Gwen quickly averted her eyes. Was he mental?

“It’s night, the water’s frigid, and it’s not safe to swim here,” Gwen protested. “You’re going to drown.” 

“There’s more to me than meets the eye, darling,” John said. He moved to undo his jeans, but Gwen’s glare stilled his fingers.

“I’ll call in some help,” Gwen said confidently. “We can get proper divers down there tomorrow.” John rolled his eyes.

“You do remember the canisters are radioactive, yes?” Gwen frowned. Oh right. “I’m not waiting.” And before Gwen could stop him, John dove into the bay. She stood stunned, PDA in one hand, jacket in the other. She quickly dropped the jacket to pull out her torch.

“John?” she called, shining her light into the water. All she could see was sleek dark waves. “John!” Nothing.

For the first minute, she had hope. But the longer she waited, the more she worried. Not really for John; she didn’t trust or like him. More about how Jack was going to react when he learned she’d lost radioactive material (and John) to the bay.

“You idiot!” Gwen seethed, kicking at his jacket. She’d bloody warned him. But no, he had to be impulsive and impatient and now he was good as dead. She sighed and reached for her mobile. No point in delaying the inevitable. She was just about to dial when she heard a clank.

“Little help down here?” Gwen dropped her mobile in shock. She dashed to the edge and looked over to see John’s head poking out of the water, one hand clinging to the docks. She shone her torch at him, and he blinked in the light. Then he grinned and held up the canister with his free hand.

“How the hell?” Gwen stammered.

“Trade secret,” John said, still grinning. “Here, catch!” He lobbed the canister, and Gwen dropped the torch to catch it. The torch hit the bay with a splash, and for a moment, illuminated the water. Gwen blinked, then rubbed at her eyes. For a moment, she thought she’d seen something… inhuman, just below the surface.

“You alright, love?” John asked, pulling himself out of the water. He seemed perfectly fine even though he’d just spent over ten minutes underwater.

“I’m fine. I just don’t understand how you’re-” Gwen cut off. Something was different. There were lines on his neck, like cuts without blood. Those definitely hadn’t been there before. 

It was then she noticed the scales on his ankles, silvery and half-hidden beneath the cuff of his soaked jeans. There were more along his stomach and hips, set into his flesh like armor. Now that wasn’t something he could easily explain away.

“Like what you see?” John asked coyly, noticing Gwen’s line of sight. Gwen blinked, startled, and when she looked back, the scales were gone. The lines on his neck (gills?) were gone too. He just looked like an ordinary, half-dressed bloke.

Maybe she was seeing things. And if she had just been Gwen Cooper the copper, that’s what she would have assumed. But she worked for Torchwood. She knew better. John reached out his hand for the canister, and Gwen pulled it away from him. Then she pulled her gun.

“Woah. Little bit jumpy there,” he said, unflinching.

“What are you?” Gwen bit out, her aim unwavering. “Because you’re not as human as you look.” John grinned, and his teeth seemed sharper.

“Never said I was.” He took a step closer, then another step. Gwen moved to pull the trigger, but John wrenched the gun out of her hand and threw it into the bay. It sank with a splash, and Gwen froze with fear. Shit. John grabbed her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes.

“Now,” John said, almost chidingly, staring Gwen down. She couldn’t look away from his eyes, blue and yet something more. “ _Give me the canister._ ” The words came out different, melodic and oh so enticing. Gwen was happy to obey, placing the canister in John’s open palm. He grinned and let go of her chin, patting her on the cheek placatingly. “Good girl.”

Gwen shook her head as he stepped away. Oh god, what had he done? Everything felt… fuzzy. “How?” she stammered, watching numbly as John pulled his shirt and jacket back on, picked up his belt and boots, and hooked the canister onto his belt. That done, he turned back to her and smirked.

“Ask your boss. Honestly, I’m surprised he forgot to mention it. Oh, or maybe I made him forget. So hard to remember.” John grinned again and Gwen decided his teeth were definitely sharper. He was like a shark, or like a-

“Mermaid?” Gwen said, foggy mind connecting the dots. 

“Sort of. There’s not an exact match in your mythologies,” John said, stepping in closer. “Less Ariel, more Parthenope.” Once he was close enough, Gwen tried to punch him, but he easily caught her fist. He clucked his tongue. “Careful, doll, or I might decide you need to take a long walk off a short pier.” 

Gwen’s breath caught. He could make her do anything he wanted. They seemed to share the same thought as he arched an eyebrow suggestively. Her blood ran cold.

“Don’t worry,” John said, which only made her worry more. “All you need to do is _freeze_.” Gwen tried to open her mouth, but couldn’t. In fact, she couldn’t move at all. She was a living statue. Only her eyes were free, darting about wildly.

“Relax,” John said with a sigh. “They’ll find you.” He picked up Gwen’s mobile and threw it into the bay. “Eventually.” He blew her a kiss, then strolled off whistling ‘Under the Sea’. Gwen glared at him until he was out of sight. That fucker. She knew he’d smelled fishy. But she’d fallen for his charm anyway.


End file.
